


the shine and the fog

by amndacampos



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Post-Movie: The X-Files: I Want To Believe (2008), Pre-X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amndacampos/pseuds/amndacampos
Summary: My thoughts on Mulder's reaction and a brief talk when Scully leaves him.





	the shine and the fog

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Here I am writing for The X Files again. I know I’m not good at writing, especially because English is not my first language, but it’s just something that I enjoy doing, so I try to indulge in that pleasure! I hope that you, my reader, can feel something good from these stories, hope, affection for these characters or maybe even a reminder of why you like them so much. Enjoy and please let me know what you think so I can improve my writing. Thank you!

Mulder sat on their unmade bed and observed their messy, messy bedroom. He never thought it would end like this. With clothes on the floor, three empty cups on his nightstand, a bottle of old water that had been there for at least two months, sheets tangled in a ball at the end of the bed because he couldn’t quite bring himself to fold it lately. It was only a mess because Scully wasn’t sleeping there anymore, not in the past few weeks, at least. He can’t remember when she started to sleep on the couch – was she even sleeping at their home? He can’t tell. He doesn’t know. And if he thinks about it, he really doesn’t blame her. She’s packing and he’s listening to the sound of the clicks of the hangers in their closet, the zippers in her suitcase and he wonders if she’s taking everything. He wonders if when she walks out of the door it will be as if she never was there in the first place.

 

The truth is that he couldn’t feel things recently. It was as simple and as terrifying as that. It was as if, over his heart, there was a net that prohibited all feelings from entering. The ones that were already in, his love for Scully, his need to find their son, his longing for his sister, weren’t going anywhere and he knew it. However, momentary feelings, like energy to get out of the bed to take a shower, motivation to do their laundry, his desire and ability to make love to his _wife_ were gone. Maybe not gone, his body knew when to feel those things, it was automatic, but that net. That net separated him from everything. And that made him stuck in a fog that made him lose perception of everything, of his life that he build with the love of his life.

 

So there he was. He was sitting down because that’s all his body allowed him to do after he saw Scully enter their house with a somber and painful expression on her face. Beautiful as ever, was the first thought that his heart allowed him to have before he gathered what was probably about to happen. Her hair was shorter now, she wanted to cut it after the case with the priest and he encouraged her. _You look gorgeous with any hairstyle, Scully._ That’s what he told her when she cut it. _I’ve known you for_ _fifteen_ _years_ _so_ _I’ve had the pleasure to see fifteen years of your hair history. Loved every single one of ‘em, don’t forget that._ She gave a shy smile that for a stranger would be just a flattered one, but he knew it all too well. Knew _her_ all too well.

 

The day she told him she had to go, her hair was all over the place, she probably had washed it the day before, though. It was so shiny it made her lips look redder even though he could see she was shaking and a bit paler. Her eyes were also shiny but not the good kind. Not the kind of when he kissed her on January 1st, 2000. Not the kind of when she looked at him after they had sex for the first time. This time it was pain that made her eyes bright. Fear and worry.

 

“You’re not gonna say anything?” She sounded hurt, but the look in her face was of slight desperation. _Please ask me to stay_ , it said. _Please tell me you’re going to make things better and you’ll let me help me you._

 

He couldn’t say that to her. He is not able to lie to Scully and he found that out a long time ago.

 

He’s sitting on the couch and she is standing in front of him, a few foots apart. Looks at the floor.

Mulder doesn’t know what the right thing is.

 

The thing about not feeling for a while is that when you do feel _something_ it feels good to relish in it, to savor it. Even if it’s bad. Even if it’s anger. And Mulder was angry. Mostly at himself. For allowing this to happen. For letting it get this far. Irrationally angry at her, _hurt._ Scully gave up on him and he brought that to himself.

 

“I had a feeling that was going to happen.” Self deprecation despised as rudeness and ungratefulness.

 

She scoffed, shocked. “Well. I’m going to pack my things, then.” She looked at him in the eyes before going upstairs. _Please let’s make it all better._

 

The sound of the suitcase being put on the floor woke him out of his daze and he followed her to their, soon to be his bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the messy, messy room.

 

She finishes packing, it was surprisingly quick and he realizes that it’s because half of her stuff was gone already. When did she pick it up? Where was he? How many chances did he had to stop her and wasted it? Seeing the confusion in his eyes, she speaks first.

 

“You didn’t even notice it, did you? That I-.”

 

“No. No, I guess I didn’t.” And he wants to cry, he wants to hug her, ask her to make it all better, please.

 

“I don’t want to do this, Mulder.” And she looks and looks. “But we need me to.”

 

He’s crying and he can’t look at her anymore.

 

“I never meant for this to happen, Scully.” He says as he wipes his eyes.

 

“I know, Mulder. I know.” He hears her whisper.

 

When he looks up, she is no longer there. 


End file.
